


The Picket Fence

by Ischa



Series: The picket fence [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Amnesia, Kidnapping, M/M, Memory Loss, Potions, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-03
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-28 07:29:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/989371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ischa/pseuds/Ischa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A de-aged, nine year old Harry Potter with memory loss, and three Ex-Slytherins taking care of him.</p><p>
  <i>He had no clue why Little Potter trusted him, or why Little Potter liked him. It just was. And better him than some creep, Draco thought.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Picket Fence

**Author's Note:**

> Written for H/D Tropes.  
> Beta: Icalynn, marianna_merlo. <3

**~One~**

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Pansy hissed.

Draco gave her a look.

Zabini looked between amused and hysterical. It wasn’t a good look on him. “What were you thinking?”

“Nothing, just that I had to get these kids out of there and that no one should see him like this,” Draco answered with a glance in Potter’s direction, who was sleeping on the couch. It looked like it would swallow him any moment. He was just so bloody small.

“Good call on that, but shouldn’t you be conferencing with Granger now?” Pansy sneered, “To get him back to his normal charming self?”

“He doesn’t know who he is, he doesn’t know who I am or Granger. He’s just a kid,” Draco answered. A lost kid with no memory.

Zabini sat down in the big armchair and let his head fall back against it. “It’s a curse, obviously. You found him with the other children, right?”

“Yes,” Draco answered, running a hand through his hair.

“And none of those children were secretly adults?”

“Not that I could make out, but they were at St. Mungos. Getting checked out.”

“So?” Zabini asked.

“As I see it? All those kidnapped kids were requests, so I assume Potter was a special request. Someone drugged him and cursed him and now he is…he is-”

“Nine, I would say,” Pansy cut in.

“Nine,” Zabini echoed. “What are you going to do?”

“Keep him here? And figure something out. For some reason he likes me. Grabbed my robes right away and didn’t let go until he fell asleep on the couch, at which point I called you two.”

“We have to figure out what kind of curse was used-”

“Or potion,” Zabini cut in.

She looked at him. “That would just be a curse in liquid form.”

Zabini threw his hands up. “Fine. You win.”

“Shhh!” Draco hissed with another glance at sleeping Little Potter. Little Potter only turned slightly, his nose crinkled a bit. It was bloody adorable. 

“Maybe we should discuss this matter in your office,” Pansy said.

“Yes. All the papers are there anyway,” Draco replied.

 

~+~  
Draco had been working on the missing kids’ case for months with the Aurors – not that they were thrilled to have his help - before he finally found a lead. He was still exhausted from the sleepless nights, and now this. Harry, freaking, Potter in his house, on his couch. Nine years old. And Potter didn’t have a clue who he was. Draco had no clue why he even cared. Except that he knew how it was to be alone. Abandoned. Potter had looked like that when Draco had found him in the attic. Maybe Pansy was right, maybe he should be calling Granger and- Yeah, right. He could handle this. He was a good private investigator. And he had Pansy and Zabini, who were reading notes and pouring over books right now.

Pansy closed the book she had been reading and stretched. “We need to check the boy out. Run some tests,” she said. She had basic Healer training, which came in handy more often than not in Draco’s line of work.

“When he wakes up-”

“And had a meal,” Zabini cut in. “Kid looks like he’s made of sticks.”

Draco had noticed too. He nodded.

 

~+~  
Little Potter was quiet at the table, but his eyes were sharp, looking from Draco to Zabini and Pansy and then to Draco again. He was sitting at Draco’s side, too.

Zabini was telling a story about his latest conquest. “And then she just dropped her-”

“Blaise!” Draco interrupted sharply with a look at Little Potter.

“What?”

“Children at the table,” Draco said.

“Oh, right, virgin ears,” Zabini said.

Little Potter grabbed Draco’s robe again. It was wrinkled to hell already. A lost cause.

“Do we have to be real, responsible, adults now?” Pansy asked with a mock whine in her voice.

Draco rolled his eyes at her. “For the time being.”

Little Potter relaxed his grip as Zabini handed a piece of cake over. It was the pink sparkly kind they bought because Pansy secretly liked them. Not that she would admit to it, not that they would make her. 

“Thank you,” Little Potter said in a small voice.

Zabini looked at him and then smiled his dazzling smile. “You are very welcome, Harry.” And then he reached over and ruffled Little Potter’s dark hair.

For a second Little Potter flinched, but relaxed again when he realized Blaise was being friendly. What the hell, Draco thought. What the bloody hell?

“Eat your cake,” Pansy said, but her voice was softer now too.

Little Potter nodded and did just that.

 

~+~  
“Well, it seems that we can make it a temporary curse,” Pansy said the next morning over coffee. Little Potter was still sleeping, or at least in the guestroom Draco had assigned him the evening before. One of the elves would fetch him when breakfast was ready.

“Okay?”

“I don’t want to mess with it too much, but there is a ‘cure’,” she made air quotes with her fingers, “my great Aunt Marble messed around with.”

“I fear for poor Harry’s life,” Zabini cut in.

She grinned. “Easier ways to kill a saviour.” She took a sip of coffee and continued. “As I was saying, we can make him grow up in a matter of a few weeks.”

“What are we talking about here, exactly?” Draco asked.

“He’s nine now, right?” Pansy asked. They nodded. “The poison will age him one year per week, so he should be back to his old self in 15 weeks. Give or take a few days.”

“What about his memories?” Zabini asked. “Will he remember his old life? Or the new one. In fast forward?”

“I don’t know. There is nothing about that in Marble’s notes. It’s a bit experimental…”

“You mean she was crazy,” Draco stated.

“Those of us without a crazy aunt, please stand up now,” Pansy countered.

Draco sighed. They were who they were. And his crazy aunt might be the most famous to date. Not that he was proud of that or anything.

“You can still call Granger, but I don’t think she has the best grasp on ancient pureblood cures,” Zabini said. “And besides, she would be all accusing and stuff. She never liked you.”

“I already decided to keep this under wraps. Merlin only knows what the media would make of this. The speculations about him taking a vacation are ridiculous as hell already.”

“There is something else,” Pansy said. “If he was a special request, don’t you think someone paid really good money for him? And that this someone might want him no matter what?”

Draco nodded. Of course this had occurred to him, too. “I have someone at St. Mungos who will inform me if anyone starts asking about Little Potter.” They hadn’t even changed his first name. With so many Harrys being born in the last few years, it didn’t really matter. And Little Potter looked so small for his age.

“Okay,” Pansy said.

“We’re doing this, then?” Zabini asked.

“I honestly don’t have a better idea. He will be safe here, and he’ll grow up fast enough that he will be able to defend himself soon, too, and then he can go home. Where he belongs,” Draco answered.

“Good. I will get the ingredients after breakfast. Tell the elves to hurry the hell up and fetch that boy,” Pansy replied. 

Draco did.

 

**~Two~**

Little Potter took the cure without question. It was a bit unnerving how much he trusted Draco. Didn’t he know that it wasn’t a good idea to trust anyone? Maybe it was that Gryffindor bravery already showing.

“Tastes funny,” he said and put the mug down.

“Well, it might taste funny, but it’s good for you,” Pansy said.

“Okay,” Little Potter replied.

“Want to go outside and play in the pool?” Zabini asked. He was already waving a towel.

“I don’t have…I don’t have clothes,” Little Potter said, his cheeks colouring.

“Right,” Draco said. “We’ll get you some. Tomorrow.” They would need more than just a pair of swim trunks.

“You can jump in naked. I like to do it, too!” Zabini threw in.

Draco gave him a look. “Pervert.”

Little Potter giggled. It was adorable. 

“Or you can leave on your underwear,” Zabini said, ignoring Draco. “It’s just the day for it, Harry. Sun, soft grass tickling your toes…sparkling water. What do you say?”

Little Potter looked at Draco shyly. “Can I go and play in the pool with Mr Zabini?”

“Mr Zabini! Kid! Call me Blaise,” Zabini threw in.

“Yes, you can go and play with Blaise in the pool,” Draco said to Little Potter. Little Potter smiled at him and grabbed Zabini’s offered hand. “I’ll have your head if something happens to him,” Draco added. Nothing, absolutely nothing could happen to Little Potter while he was on Draco’s watch.

“Aww,” Zabini answered. “You care.” And then he was out the door.

Thing was, Draco did care. Little Potter had only invaded his home for the last three days, but he already felt that possessive streak growing inside him. Little Potter was defenceless against a world that wanted to harm him. Badly. Merlin only knew what that pervert wanted with a de-aged Harry Potter. Draco needed to find that guy. It was a good thing Zabini was great with kids. He could look out for Little Potter, keep him occupied and happy while Draco hunted down that scum.

~+~  
Draco should have known. Sending Pansy to fetch some clothes for Little Potter wasn’t the best idea. Especially with Draco’s money. “He will grow out of this in a week,” Draco said, looking over all the boxes and bags.

“But he looked so cute in all of them. I will take him next week too and the week after that and after that too. He might grow up with a sense of fashion this time around. Imagine the scandal!” She opened her eyes real wide, which made her look like a page six girl.

Draco shook his head and looked at Little Potter. “Did you have a nice day with Aunt Pansy?”

She slapped his arm, hard.

“Yes,” Little Potter answered.

“Want to show us a few of those new clothes?” Zabini asked from the door to the living room.

Little Potter looked unsure. “You don’t have to,” Draco said.

Little Potter squeezed the green plush toy he came home with hard. Draco only realized that it was a dragon now. He sighed. “And you got him a dragon?”

“He picked it out himself. I just told him he can have whatever, and he got this,” Pansy replied, crossing her arms over her chest. “It doesn’t even do anything. It’s just a toy. Like the ones Muggles make. But who am I to judge, you now? Kids.” She shrugged.

He smiled at her.

“What do you call it?” Draco asked.

“It doesn’t have a name yet,” Little Potter answered. Draco found this hard to believe, but he wasn’t going to press Little Potter for an answer. 

“It will come to you, eventually,” Draco said. “Want to go and watch something with Blaise? I need to talk to Pansy.”

“Okay,” Little Potter said, but he glanced at them before he took Zabini’s hand.

“It’s nothing bad, I promise,” Draco said.

“Okay,” Little Potter repeated and let Blaise lead him out of the living room.

~+~  
The growing happened over night. Little Potter went to bed a nine year old and woke up older. It wasn’t really noticeable the first few times. He didn’t grow bigger – much. But it showed when he became eleven. His magic started to develop in earnest now. He wasn’t freaked out about it, but that was no wonder. Draco used magic all the time, as did Pansy and Zabini. This time around, Little Potter was living in a house full of magic. It was as natural as breathing to use it. 

It was fun, actually, to teach Little Potter a few tricks. And it didn’t surprise Draco at all that Little Potter had no problems using Draco’s wand for it.  
Little Potter liked to make things flood. And he was delighted when Pansy showed him how to make fairy lights twinkle in different colours.

“That’s really pretty,” Zabini commented. “And there is a lot of green in there.”

“Draco likes green,” Little Potter said.

“He does indeed,” Zabini answered. Draco could feel Blaise’s gaze boring into him. He had no clue why Little Potter trusted him, or why Little Potter liked him. It just was. And better him than some creep, Draco thought.

~+~  
Little Potter liked to read, not textbooks, but children’s books. Draco’s old children’s books, in fact. He sat upon the floor and read to himself or traced the pictures on the ancient pages with delicate fingers, carefully.  
Draco was aware that he got used to having Little Potter around far too easily and too fast.  
He wasn’t the only one. Zabini adored him openly. But that was Zabini’s way.  
Pansy showed it in small ways. Buying him clothes, taking him out to see the city, and getting him cake.

Draco…well, he liked to sit in the living room in the evenings, knowing Little Potter was absorbed in a book, or falling asleep in front of the telly.  
Little Potter might have been quiet, but he was also obviously there. Taking up space in Draco’s home and life.

 

**~Three~**

With thirteen and fourteen, the changes were more noticeable. Little Potter was still small for his age, but he looked at Pansy in a certain way that wasn’t there before when she was wearing a tight top. Draco wanted to tease the hell out of him for that, but a growing boy’s ego was a very fragile thing.

Pansy knew it, too. She didn’t sneer at him when she caught him looking.

“In our little family, we let Uncle Blaise tell Little Potter all about the bees and the birds,” she said, falling onto the couch next to him. He let her put her head into his lap and stroked her soft hair.

“I think he will scar Little Potter for life,” Draco mused.

“It’s the best that can happen, really. Do you want him to go and explore on his own?” She asked. There was that certain tone in her voice that he hadn’t heard in years.

He wanted to say what he had always said until she finally shut up: I don’t love Potter. But it wasn’t true this time around. Maybe hadn’t been true when he had been a teenager either.  
It was still different. What he felt for Little Potter now, it was…maybe what his mother had felt for him.

He wanted to protect Little Potter, keep him safe and make sure that he knew he was loved. But Draco also knew he sucked at that last part big time. He just didn’t want to get too attached. It wasn’t like this would last. Little Potter would grow up and be just Potter again. And Draco…well, Draco would not be the same person he was only weeks ago, because when Potter was himself again, Draco would have lost a child.

“I don’t want to let him go,” Draco said and he was very aware of how it sounded and how selfish it was, but if he couldn’t tell these things to his family, who could he tell? 

“If it means anything to you, I got used to having him around as well,” Pansy said, grabbing his hand and kissing his palm.

It meant a lot, but it wouldn’t change a thing. 

 

~+~  
“Little Potter,” Draco said, looking up from the paper he was reading.

Little Potter gave him a look. “Why are you calling me that?”

“It’s your name and you’re little,” Draco answered.

“No, it’s not. My name is Harry,” Little Potter said and stormed out.

Ah, Draco thought, the joys of puberty. He was getting a headache and also nowhere with his case. No one had tried to claim Little Potter as their own child so far, and every other kid was safe and sound with their parents.  
He rubbed the bridge of his nose. What had he been thinking, hiding Potter here? Just because the git had saved his life once…or once more, it didn’t mean Draco was indebted to him. Except, of course, that it meant just that.  
He would be glad to give Little Potter back to his real friends and family.  
Yeah, right.

~+~  
“I’m sorry, I yelled at you,” Little Potter said, standing in the door to the study later that evening.

“It’s fine,” Draco answered. “Do you want me to call you by your first name?”

Little Potter shoock his head slightly, playing with the hem of his t-shirt. He was growing up fast, but he was still small and a bit scrawny even if Pansy fed him cake every day. Little Potter’s collarbone looked delicate, and, in the half-light of the study, like art.

“It means something that you call me Little Potter, doesn’t it?” He asked, looking at Draco.

It probably did. Draco just had no idea what. “Yes,” he replied nevertheless.

Little Potter nodded. “Good night, Draco.”

“Good night, Little Potter,” Draco answered and was rewarded with a smile. He just knew that this smile would haunt him forever.

~+~  
“What’s all this?” Draco asked as he came down to the dining room the following week.

“As it so happens,” Pansy replied. “It’s Harry’s birthday.”

“No, it’s not,” Draco said, because he knew every little detail about Potter and his life. Made it his business to know these things after the war.

“Shush you. He’s sixteen now,” Pansy answered.

“Legal to consent,” Blaise threw in unhelpfully.

Draco glared at him. Merlin help Blaise if he got Little Potter a sex-toy or a box full of them.

Little Potter blushed.

Pansy grabbed him by the shoulders and hugged him. Potter liked to be hugged, and Pansy had made it a point to hug him a lot when he had been just a kid and she hadn’t stopped doing it. “So we’re throwing him a party.”

“Fine,” Draco said and took a piece of cake. There was nothing else to do, and besides, Little Potter deserved one really great birthday.

“We’re going to Muggle London later,” Blaise said.

“What for?” Draco asked, swallowing his forkful of cake. It was delicious.

“To see a movie and have ice-cream,” Little Potter said. “You don’t have to come with if you don’t want to.”

Was Potter sulking? “I happen to like ice-cream.” Draco said, licking his fork.

“Even the Muggle kind?” Potter asked, and there was something in his voice. He had probably picked up on Draco’s not-so-fondness of all things Muggle. Draco couldn’t help it, he just didn’t care about Muggles. 

Ah, Draco thought, well. “I don’t hate Muggles, Little Potter,” he clarified.

“Could have fooled me,” Little Potter replied.

“Muggles and I, we have a complicated relationship,” Draco said.

“It seems,” Potter grinned. “You have complicated relationships with everyone and everything.”

“Eat your cake, brat,” Draco replied.

Little Potter laughed. Draco liked hearing Little Potter laugh. He liked seeing Little Potter happy.

Draco was so bloody screwed.

~+~  
Little Potter found him later in his office. He even knocked before he entered. Draco shoved the papers he was working on aside.

“Yes?” He asked.

Little Potter took a deep breath and looked at Draco. “What is wrong with me?”

Draco wanted to say that nothing was wrong with Little Potter. And wasn’t that funny? He had wanted to tell Potter what was wrong with him for years growing up.  
“You have a condition,” Draco answered.

“You don’t say. I am aging really fast. At this rate I will be dead in a few years…”

Oh, Draco thought. “You won’t die in three years. You will stop aging at 24,” Draco said.

“Why?” Little Potter questioned. 

“Because that is the age you got cursed at in the first place,” Draco explained.

 

**~Four~**

“Harry is really curious about sex,” Blaise said, flopping down on the couch. Little Potter and Pansy were out and about to buy new clothes in Muggle London, and Draco had thought he would get some work done. No luck, it seemed.

“That is what he has Uncle Blaise for,” Draco answered. 

“You know, I like this. Uncle Blaise. I could get used to it,” Blaise replied. “You should settle down already, or Pansy, so I can spoil your bratty kids.”

“Hmmm…”

“But seriously, Draco. The boy isn’t only interested in girls, he also has a healthy interest in boys, and that is where you-”

“No. I know you fooled around with guys,” Draco cut in.

Blaise grinned. “And yours was the best blow-job to date, but I don’t fall in love with men, Draco. I just like to have sex with them from time to time,” Blaise replied.

“I’m not good at this. If he wants to talk about feelings, he should go to Pansy; that is what I have done, too.”

“You didn’t listen to her, either,” Blaise said.

“She told me to go and tell Potter that I’m in bloody love with him! During a war. Me with the Dark Mark and him…well, to be honest I thought he would die, Blaise. I was sure the Dark Lord would kill him like he had killed so many others. I was terrified.”

“Only the stupid ones weren’t,” Blaise said. Draco nodded. “He is developing a crush on you,” Blaise added gently. It didn’t really soften the blow. He hated facing these things. He had been ignoring the ever growing crush just fine.

“Proximity. He hasn’t seen much of the world yet – this time around. When he is back to normal again, he will fall into the Weasley’s arms and all will be right with the world once more.” 

“And you believe that?” Blaise questioned.

“It’s the only thing that keeps me sane,” Draco answered honestly.

“You were never sane, Draco,” Blaise laughed.

 

~+~  
“What are you working on anyway?” Potter asked over Draco’s shoulder.

“I’m trying to find the people who commissioned the kidnappings,” Draco answered, ignoring Little Potter’s breath hitting the delicate skin on the back of his neck.

“I thought you caught the people who kidnapped the children.”

“I did, and the Aurors are questioning them, but there are no traces of who commissioned the kidnapping – those particular memories were erased. I want to know who it was and why they did it.”

“Like mine,” Potter said.

“You’re a whole other deal,” Draco replied. “Whatever made you a kid again…I don’t even know.”

“Will I keep these memories that I am making now? Or will my other memories come back?” Potter asked. Draco was sure he read up on his other life, but all these people he called friends once, they were strangers now. 

“We don’t know,” Draco said.

“What would you like better, Draco?” Little Potter asked, brushing his fingers against Draco’s neck. “A stray hair,” he explained before Draco could ask what the hell he was doing. It was a lie. Draco didn’t call him out on it.

“It’s not about what I want. It’s about what will happen once you turn 24 again.”

“You don’t let yourself want many things anymore, do you?” Little Potter asked gently. 

“Go and pester Pansy, Little Potter I have work to do,” Draco said, ignoring Potter’s question. 

“We want to go swimming on Saturday. Pansy wants to know if you would grace us with your presence. Her words not mine.”

Draco smiled. “Yes, I will.” 

“Okay,” Potter said and finally left Draco alone in his study. It would be better for Potter to lose the memories he was making now, Draco thought. Having a crush on Draco couldn’t do him any good. It would be enough for one of them to be heartbroken and aching with loss. And Draco knew that feeling very well by now. It was a not so dear, but close companion.

~+~  
Little Potter, at eighteen, was not so little anymore, but still achingly beautiful to Draco’s eyes. And he was another person entirely. He liked Draco. They were friends, family, something else, something more. Something undefined as of now.  
And Little Potter (but maybe the name didn’t fit the young man he had become anymore) was flirting with Draco. It was getting harder and harder to ignore it.  
Draco still tried. Little Potter might not have been a kid anymore, but Draco wasn’t going to start something that would only mess him up.  
But when he looked at Little Potter sometimes, that smile, and the trusting look of his eyes, he was tempted to say: what the hell, and do it anyway.

The urge to kiss Little Potter when he grinned knowingly at Draco was really bloody strong.

 

**~Five~**

It was stupid, so stupid, Draco knew. He couldn’t even be sure Little Potter would remember this. They didn’t know if he would keep these memories from a life lived in fast forward or if they would be erased and replaced with those he had before once he reached his real age. Which would be pretty much in four to five weeks.

“Little Potter,” he said. It was the last line of defense, really. If he was Little Potter, he couldn’t be anything else to Draco – but it was a crumbling defense line. 

“Shut up, Draco,” Little Potter answered and grabbed him by the neck. He paused then, breathing Draco in.

“Well? Scared, Potter?” Draco breathed. It slipped out, came naturally – force of habit.

“You wish, Malfoy,” Potter answered, but he was smiling, and then he kissed Draco. It was a good kiss. Draco had no idea if Potter had been practicing or if it came back now that he was getting older or if he was just a natural at this. It didn’t matter.

“Potter,” Draco said breaking the kiss and was shoved against the nearest wall for his trouble. He needed to be the adult here. He needed to get a grip.

“How many times do you think I jerked off to you calling me ‘Little Potter’? How many times did I bite back your name when I came?” Potter asked, looking Draco in the eyes.

What the hell? What the bloody hell?! Draco closed his eyes briefly. Maybe it wouldn’t matter anyway. Maybe Potter would forget all of this, maybe they could have it. He grabbed Potter by his t-shirt and pulled him closer so their bodies touched nearly everywhere. He was breathing hard and Potter was too.

“Have you been with someone?” Draco made himself ask.

Potter laughed. “You keep me locked up in here, Draco. I’m the virgin, you’re the dragon,” he added in a whisper

It wasn’t true, he didn’t keep Potter locked up…well maybe, but he was looking already mostly like his 24 year old self. They couldn’t take the risk of someone seeing him and asking questions Potter couldn’t answer.

Draco pushed him away, so he could breathe a bit easier. “And you want-”

“Yes,” Potter said and kissed him again. Draco’s back hit the wall hard.

Draco knew that Potter had a concept of sex and maybe even more than just a concept, because Blaise liked to tell a lot of stories, and Blaise liked to have a lot of sex too. Still, theory and practice are two different things.

“Wait!” Draco said, pushing him away again. Merlin, he was getting so hard right now. Bloody hell. He ran a hand through his hair and looked at Potter. “What do you want?”

“To have sex with you, Draco,” he answered.

“Believe it or not, I figured that one out myself,” Draco snipped.

“You were always smart,” Potter said with a smile.

He looked so boyish, so young, and he wanted Draco – it was hard to keep saying no to him. There were a million ways to get off with another person…a million ways.

“And what if I want to fuck you?” Draco said. And he used the word deliberately. It seemed crass and ugly in this situation, and it was meant to drive a point home for Potter –or maybe for himself.

“Were you thinking about it? Because I was thinking about your dick inside me,” Potter answered and held his gaze. His eyes were so vibrant and green and alive.

“Oh, Little Potter,” Draco said and was rewarded with a shiver from Potter. He grabbed Potter by the neck and smashed their mouths together again. Whatever Potter wanted, Draco knew he would give it to him.

~+~  
Once Draco got a taste of Potter’s mouth, his body. Once he drank in the moans and breathy inhales, the pants, the groans that could be his name, it was pretty much a lost cause.

Potter would crawl into his bed at night and snuggle close, straddle him, and kiss him senseless while he stroked both their cocks. Or let Draco watch as he teased and stroked himself, coming all over Draco’s chest. The way his body went taut and rigid when he came, the way he bit his lip, the way everything about him screamed Draco’s name: it made Draco crazy with lust and desire. With pure need to kiss Potter, to lick him, to suck him off three times a day. To fuck him hard or have him deep inside. 

And Potter was equally egger. He wanted to try _everything_. They were desperate, but they didn’t admit it.

~+~  
There was a small pool of sweat at the small of Potter's back. Draco ran his finger through it and then followed it up with his tongue. Potter moaned, grabbing the sheets so tight Draco feared he would rip them apart. He kissed one cheek and then the other and spread them, dipping his tongue inside for just a moment. Just to test out if Potter would let him right now, as he must have still been fucked out from his orgasm earlier.

Potter sobbed his name and pushed his face into the cushion. Draco took that as a sign to continue what he was doing. Potter was still loose from Draco's fingers and cock, and he was pushing into Draco's tongue and practically begging with his whole body. Draco really wanted to see if Potter could come from this alone, Draco’s tongue up his ass, but he was too exhausted for it now, so he stroked Potter off instead.  
They could try that in the morning.

He let himself fall next to Potter, and Potter slung a leg over one of his and turned his face so he could look at Draco.  
Potter was in love with him and he was in love with Potter and it was all very great. Right now, right here. Potter liking him, Potter in his bed, Potter joking around with Blaise and Pansy.  
Sharing meals and napping on the couch.  
But it wouldn’t last.

 

~+~  
The older Potter got, the more desperate his kisses tasted.

“I know all about my other life,” Potter said, “Even if I shouldn’t remember a thing from it, I think I could just slip right into that Harry Potter saviour of the wizard world skin.” He looked at Draco over the rim of his mug.

“You would pretend to be someone you’re not?”

“I don’t know? Would I have to? Would you stand by me?” Potter asked.

“Yes,” Draco answered and wasn’t surprised in the slightest.

“You would probably have to leave the country to live your merry gay life in peace,” Blaise threw in, handing Potter a scone.

Potter smiled.

“Crime,” Draco said. ”Happens everywhere.”

“Aren’t you charming this morning,” Pansy replied.

Draco shrugged, it was true. He could be a private investigator everywhere. And with only one unsolved case…because this Potter kidnapping de-aging one was unsolved so far. Draco wasn’t working on it anymore, because Potter was the only important thing right now. And the time they could spend together: talking, hanging out, and fucking.

 

~+~  
“You should stay at your own place,” Draco said over breakfast.

“Because I would be freaked out waking up here, next to you when, if I should lose this and remember my old life?”

“Yes,” Draco said.

“And if I don’t remember my old life?” Harry asked.

“Then come back here. I will be waiting for you, Little Potter,” Draco stated. It was more of a promise, really.

“I figured it out. Maybe you didn’t, but I did. Every time you call me ‘Little Potter’ you mean ‘I love you’.”

“I called you that when you were nine,” Draco replied.

“You loved me, differently, when I was nine,” Harry replied, smiling.

 

~+~  
“I love you,” Potter whispered, not touching Draco. “I know you know that, but I think you should hear it, too. And I know you're awake, but I will let you pretend,” he added and then he got out of bed. Draco kept his breathing even. He listened to Harry’s bare feet on the hardwood floor and then the soft noise the bathroom door made as he opened it and then the shower. He would get dressed and leave for his apartment. Harry Potter was 23 now.

Draco was running out of time


End file.
